


Is Now a Good Time?

by merkkat



Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, M/M, Post-Serum Steve Rogers, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Pre-Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-01
Updated: 2016-12-12
Packaged: 2018-05-24 05:33:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,336
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6143125
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/merkkat/pseuds/merkkat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Pain and Bucky together makes bad decisions. Or the time when Bucky punches Steve in the face.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Based on the prompt: "You punched me in the face while gesticulating wildly to a friend."
> 
> This is my first short attempt at writing. Hope you like it!

  
In retrospect alcohol should not have been involved. Especially when his drinking partner is a Russian spy that can down Vodka like water. Bucky laid his head down on the table of the coffee shop, groaning at the throbbing behind his eyes. Last night was amazing, but the morning after was like falling down the stairs repeatedly and not knowing why, when, or how. Bucky curled up in his seat to make himself smaller as Natasha walked back to the table, two cups of coffee in her hands.

“Stop groaning James. You already get enough looks for your arm.” Natasha chided.

“Should’ve known you’d drink me under the table. Why am I even here?” Bucky grumbled.

“Because you need to meet Steve.”

Oh right. Mr. Perfect. Shit.

“Tash, I am literally hungover from the vodka and still drunk from the tequila. I am not meeting your friend while I look like a homeless person.” _and I don’t want to meet this man when I am weak and unarmed_ , but he lets that go unsaid. Adjusting to civilian life has not been easy, along with the metal arm and the PTSD. A car horn send him to the ground and reaching for a gun before he even realized where he was. Natasha seemed to notice his discomfort though.

“We can meet him another time, but I want you to know that I would only set you up with people I trust.” She held her usual poker face but even then, Bucky could see the flicker of sadness in her eyes; the sadness for his arm, the torture he went through and the sadness for the broken pieces that she had to pick up after he got back. And the pity. Always the fucking pity.

“I am _fine_. I don’t need you looking at me like one of those messed up puppies in a shelter. I don’t want your pity. I just want you to stop feeling so fucking sorry every time you see me.” Bucky flung out his hands in rage, his head hurting and mouth twisted harshly. “Look at me! I don’t need --” Bucky’s metal arm collided with something hard enough to make a little crunching sound.

Oh fuck.

He turned around to see the poor bastard that had the unfortunate timing and the first thing he saw was the blue eyes. Bright like the sky and shining wet with unvoiced pain.

Then he saw the blood. 

His stomach churned violently and his head screeched to a halt. Everything went dark.

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I decided to continue this AU. But be warned, the chapters are gonna be short. Because I am incapable of writing anything more than 500 words.

_Like the static after you changed a channel on an old TV, the nightmares were always snippets, little clips of gore and horror before they flickered to another. Turning away did nothing to the screams, the muffled shouts in unknown languages._

Bucky woke up to the annoying beeps of the heart monitors and the same sharp white when he came back a year ago, sans arm.

“First the hangover, now a concussion. And here I thought we were gonna have a good day.” Natasha mumbled, loud enough to be intentional. Bucky turned over. His head flared with dizzying pain as his stomach threatened to empty out bile. Natasha sat next to him, flipping through a magazine, poise and casual. Bucky stuck up his middle finger as strongly as he could. Natasha scoffed at his anger. Fucking spy. “If it makes you feel better, you punched your date so he had to cancel too.”

“How the fuck is that suppose to make me feel better?”

“Last I heard you were pretty adamant on not meeting him.” Bucky cringed at the memory. That whole conversation was miserable outpour of unnecessary feelings.

“How ‘bout we ignore that whole conversation? Go get drinks, forget it ever happened.”

“Forget that whiny shitshow you spilled before you punched an innocent bystander in the nose? Nah, that one’s going in the group message.” Bucky sighed, though he felt a little weight come off his chest. Leave it to Natasha to throw jabs at his fucked up life. Most would walk away from his outburst. Natasha takes it all to stride, apologies accepted and faults forgiven on both sides.

“How is he, by the way? Last I remember I hit the poor guy pretty hard.” Bucky’s pretty sure that he broke something on the guy’s face, which is a fucking travesty if his eyes were an indication to his looks. First a hangover, then a petty outburst, and now he’s pretty sure he ruined a model’s livelihood.

“Steve’s fine, a little bruised up, but that’s normal for him.”

“I should probably go apologize to him ”

“You probably should.” Natasha flipped the magazine closed with a snap, taking out her phone and rapidly tapping away what was most likely this morning’s events.

“Any chance this stays between us ‘til it’s over?”

“Nope” Natasha grinned, a little pop at the end of the word. Fucking _sadistic_ spy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next up: The meet-awkward of our resident golden retriever and constipated grumpy cat.


	3. Chapter 3

God, he hated all this damn white walls. He wanted to tip a tray over just to create some mess into this mockery of his life. But no, apologies needed to be made first. _I can do this_ , Bucky muttered to himself, _just go in and say how much you’re an idiot and then leave and sleep the rest of this fucking day off_. 

“Stop thinking so much and just get it over with,” Natasha said as she pinched his arm sharply. 

“Ow!, geez, alright, no need to hurt me to do something I already planned to do.” Bucky grumbled.

According to Natasha, Steve Rogers sustained a broken nose but remain essentially uninjured after the altercation. Bucky huffed one last sigh before he knocked on the door, shuffling on his feet in an effort to get the nervous jitters out. Natasha just scoffed at his efforts and walked away to let him suffer alone. 

“Come in.” the voice shouted from the other side of the door. 

He was pretty sure he stopped breathing for a minute there. _Jesus_. The man was gorgeous, an Adonis come to life from a Roman sculptures crafted from marble. Except for the gross mottle of color and the bandage across his nose. Bucky winced at the color and didn’t really think much before talking, but he’ll blame that on the concussion. 

“You look like shit buddy.” _Fuck. Backtrack you fucking idiot, stop talking._

“Thanks, always a nice way to start the morning.” Steve deadpanned, cocking an eyebrow at Bucky. 

_ Damn, cute and sassy.  _

“Yeah, sorry about that, I swear it wasn’t intentional, just caught me at a bad time.” Bucky smiled apologetically at Steve, scrunching his face and the damage.

“I figured. Natasha explained the situation when you passed out,” Steve smirked back, “Not surprised I landed in the ER again, though I am certainly surprised at the reason, but I’m sure you’ll compensate for this?”

Bucky’s smile faltered at that, “I-I’m pretty sure I can pay for the bill if you’ll give me some-”

“How about a coffee?”

At that, Bucky’s brain stuttered to a stop and stared at Steve, bright eyes clear with hidden intention.

“Are you serious?”

“Well, I mean, if you don’t want to-” Steve replied back, expression clouding with the prospect of rejection.

“No! Just, a little weird to ask someone out when they just busted up your nose?” Bucky asks, brows furrowed in confusion. 

Steve laughed at that, snapping to a wince immediately after when his nose protested the sudden movement.  “It’s not a date casanova, I just figured it would be nice to change my impression of you after Tasha spent so much time trying to set me up with you.”

Dumbstruck, Bucky looks at Steve in wonder.“Oh. I mean, if you want to? I definitely wouldn’t mind getting to know you better.”

“How about we try again later then, when we’re both checked out?” Steve grinned back, face clear with mischief.

Bucky chuckled, excited with his new plans. “Sure, Let me give you my number.”

Maybe this day wouldn’t end that badly after all. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this was suppose to go longer, but I have unfortunately lost all motivation to continue and I'm really sorry about that. I may pick it up again but as of the moment, it will remain completed.


End file.
